


All Dressed Up For The Dance

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:12:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: His eyes kept darting back to that coral chiffon dress floating freely, following the lithe form as it manoeuvred its way gracefully through the crowd of overdressed simpering matrons, elegant aloof mistresses, and other assorted females, (the men mostly keeping to the sides of the room in the forum), keeping a close watch for trouble of any kind.  He'd agreed to do this, to be on guard, make sure nothing bad happened; had agreed it had been necessary.  "Make it look like you're a little bit enthralled, even; that's a good excuse for staying extra close, for never becoming distracted."  Somehow, much to his dismay, Garrison wasn't finding that a difficult chore at all.  Breathing, yes, that he was having a little difficulty with, swallowing, oh yes, but staying close, not allowing himself to be distracted, not at all.  Damn!!





	All Dressed Up For The Dance

"She can't do it, Craig. Go look at her; she can't even stand up!" Actor was showing his frustration.

The plan had been for Actor to escort Lynn to the Swiss Embassy for the upcoming reception for the various dignitaries. The transfer of information was supposed to take place there, from the Ambassador's companion to Lynn. The Ambassador was insanely jealous; there's no way he would allow another man within an arms length of the beautiful Margueritte, so it had to be a woman. At the same time, Craig was supposed to be providing protection and escort service for Meghada, posing as the newly discovered 'delightfully off-beat and highly talented Charisse', assistant and hairstylist of choice for the famed society photographer Bruno Manheim. 'Charisse' was to personally prepare each of the five ladies, all wives of the dignitaries, to have their official photographs taken, at the same time planting incriminating evidence on two of the women who they knew were spying for the Nazis. All was in place, except for the totally awful cold and flu Lynn had ended up with after that last mission with Special Services, where she'd ended up drenched and marooned with her contact, who was so sick with the same ailments. She'd seemed fine when she got back, other than being cold and chilled, and all had seemed a go til last night, when Lynn had suddenly developed every symptom in the books.

"I know, I can see that!" Craig growled back, "but HQ still says the job has to be done and this is the only opportunity! And that means we leave first thing tomorrow, like it or not!"

He'd visited his sister just a few minutes ago, and even if makeup could have covered the blotches and paleness, the weeping eyes, well, the coughing and the fainting, along with the spontaneous vomiting were kind of hard to disguise. He ran his hand through his hair, "maybe we can switch it around. Have Meghada do Lynn's part, maybe have Charisse take sick and send in someone else for that part."

Major Kevin Richards was just as frustrated as the other two, "no, it's all set up for 'Charisse', and the only way we were able to even get permission for someone to accompany Manheim was because the women were so excited by his descriptions of this 'genius'! And while Manheim is willing to play along, he doesn't have the skills to plant the material himself."

Actor snorted, "yes, and while you know I value Meghada for her skills, do you honestly believe she could carry off something like this??! A hairdresser, a photographer's assistant, yes, a nightclub singer, yes - she's proven all that even as unlikely as that last would seem, but the role Lynn was to play is of a rather different sort."

Meghada had been sitting back listening to all of this, and she had a few ideas, but they were rather bizarre even for this crew, though nothing out of the ordinary for her own people. She knew she could handle either part equally well, though she wasn't surprised at Actor's doubts; after all, she reserved that side of her for his English teammate. As for the part of Charisse, well, she'd seen just how well that could be handled by someone other than herself, though she knew she'd get major opposition on every front. It helped that her younger brother and sister were staying at the Cottage; they had experience with this.

She spoke up, "gentlemen, there is another possibility. Might I suggest a break, perhaps half an hour or so, and then . . ." 

Thirty minutes later sheer mayhem broke out. "You can't seriously think . . ." came from the tall Italian conman.

"I don't see why not," she responded coolly to Actor's outburst in particular. "Lynn's part requires someone to mix and mingle, and be in the right place at the right time to receive the coded information. Despite your reservations, I doubt I'd have much trouble with that. 'Charisse' is really the more challenging; that requires not only highly-skilled slight of hand, but a certain quirky madcap personality. Slight of hand I can do, the other not so easily."

"Not to mention the ability to fix hair for a bunch of society dames," Casino growled.

"Well, that's not so difficult as you might think; with the right presentation and show of confidence, you'd be surprised to see what those 'society dames' accept as the latest and most chic ideas! Goodness knows I've seen some decidedly strange things being presented as such!" Meghada was not a fan of society or the whims and whimseys of society, but she was a fascinated and frequently amused observer.

"It's a fun character anyway, lots of ways to play it," Ciena spoke up, and Kevin Richards glared at the young woman, still showing damages from her last assignment, including her right arm strapped across her waist, "well, you're not going to play it! If you think I'm about to let you . . ." Ciena rolled her eyes, and her brother did the same.

Ian sighed, "Kevin, she wasn't suggesting that. You've made your opinion quite clear, and her bruises are too evident and she's not moving easily enough to do slight of hand anyway. Her point is, she COULD do it if she were together; actually, so could I before I grew those last couple of inches and bulked up." And that got a shocked stare from everyone except his sisters.

"But since you're not going to let either of US, I think, we think, Goniff would be the best suited," and that's when the jaws really dropped.

"Ruddy 'ell!!! You're outta yer flippin' minds!" and that harsh outburst was just the start from the slender Englishman. Other corners were heard from, and they all had some choice words to say. Chief pretty much limited himself to trying to hide that little quirk of his lips that constituted what would have been a full grin on anyone else. Casino was giving his usual ribald reaction, and Garrison and Richards giving their usual imitation of a goldfish out of water. That reaction was pretty much what the twins expected; for some reason they just affected the two officers that way; they were rather looking forward to the reaction when their younger brother and sister came into the mix, considering Coura and Douglas were even more outrageous.

Actor was at his most supercilious and demeaning best, if you wanted to call it that. Actually, that 'best', was setting off little sparks in Meghada's gold-brown eyes. She took a deep breath and exchanged a long-suffering look with the two younger members of her family.

Once again ignoring the obviously facetious suggestion of sending Goniff in as Charisse, Actor let out a frustrated sigh, and appealed to the leader of the team.

"Craig, I am expected to be escorting a sophisticated, experienced, WILLING woman, not, well, not an Ice Queen, not a Miss Priss, as her file so aptly indicates. The clothing and jewelry could be managed, but as for the rest, well, you can hardly imagine she could pull that off in any believable fashion. After all, she's known for decimating anyone who tries anything of that sort!"

That got him a rather cryptic look from the young woman, "let's give it a try, Actor, as if I WERE a willing woman," and the challenge on her face was obvious. Goniff now had a more intense frown on his face than he did a moment before.

Actor pursed his lips in exasperation, "very well! How would you respond if I did this??!" and pulled her slowly but firmly into his arms and into a passionate kiss. He'd intended it to last just long enough for her to become frightened or angry or disgusted, or until she was ready to admit to being totally out of her depth, but as her warm, knowing response indicated, that wasn't happening. He deepened the kiss, touching his tongue to her lips, inviting her to let him in, and she did, responding with knowledge and more than a little skill, her body language providing the perfect balanced accompaniment. When he released her and moved away, Garrison was amused to see that it was ACTOR who looked rather shaken, not the young woman, who had a cocky look on her face rather reminiscent of her younger siblings, or maybe their pickpocket.

Actor cleared his throat, and Meghada gave a tiny grin. "Look, let's work through the character first, and just let the other simmer. Actor, your 'date', who is she to you?" That got her a puzzled frown, which led to a quick frustrated shake of her head. "I mean, is she a society lady with whom you have an 'understanding'? Is she your mistress? A very high-class courtessan? Your lover?"

Garrison asked, "what does that matter," only to get an incredulous look from the young red-head.

Goniff was still too stunned and offended at the idea of him going in as 'Charisse' to react to much else, though that kiss had pissed him off plenty. Meghada's kisses belonged to him, him and no one else; he was sure of that; maybe it was about time he discussed that with her, made sure she understood that as well as he did. He blinked rapidly, {"well, she DOES understand that, don't she?} Suddenly there was a tiny bit of doubt growing, bringing him back to his earlier thoughts, that he just couldn't be that lucky, wondering. He brought his attention back to the conversation in front of him.

"It matters tremendously in how the character is played, Lieutenant, and what opportunities and limitations it presents. An 'understanding' would make the woman attentive, certainly, and affectionate within the bounds of propriety, but still with an eye to, shall we say, the main chance, the possible meeting of someone with whom a more significant alliance might be formed; she would be equally sanguine about his looking around at other women. She'd be more likely to drift away from his side, size up the other men, how close they seem to be to their female companions; she would have the most freedom to mingle without any disapproval from him. A mistress, on the other hand, she knows which side her bread is buttered on and if she is well provided for is going to be very careful to cater to his wishes, and will show her obvious devotion, no matter how much she has to pretend; she'll not let her eyes stray; it would be far too costly for her to do so. And she'd be VERY aware if his eyes strayed, and none too pleased about it either. Remember, this is her livelihood, food, shelter and everything else all rolled up into one very precarious situation. How much HE would be accepting of her roaming the room, mingling with the others, that would depend on various things - his emotional involvement, his possessiveness, his need to show his ownership."

Actor was starting to look at her rather differently than before; none of this was knowledge he was expecting the young woman to be so conversant, so comfortable with.

"A courtessan is a very expensive, but usually very short term acquisition, frequently just for the one event. She has less riding on this one evening, though she would certainly want any impression to be favorable, in his eyes and in those who might become future clients. There would be lavish attentiveness, certainly; that's what is being purchased along with her style and glamor, all in an effort to enhance his OWN image, but with a certain calculation in her eyes. The devotion would be more superficial; the knowledge of his ways and wishes obviously less well informed. She would be highly unlikely to mingle freely, that would be almost a violation of the 'contract' if you would. A lover, on the other hand, well . . . I suppose that isn't important; you'd be unlikely to take your lover to such a gathering, the Ambassador not withstanding, risk her exposure to the others, and I would be much disinclined to play such a part with him unless truly necessary anyway."

Not really offended since the idea had no appeal to him either, but trying to get the upper hand again after he had lost it so thoroughly just moments before, the tall Italian looked down his nose at her, "really? And why is that, Meghada? Or is it just that it would be so very obvious that you are hardly my type?"

She tried to keep a straight face looking into his haughtily smug one, but her quivering lips told the tale; her siblings didn't even try, they just broke out laughing, catching the attention of the entire team. Ian explained between his remaining snickers, "she's good at taking on a role and staying in character, but I'm not sure she's THAT good! Pay for play? That she could mimic. Friends with benefits? That too." Those terms raised more than a few brows.

The young man grinned and went on, "but lovers? With Goniff, certainly, though he might distract her to the point of the pair of them forgetting what the job was! Couldn't swear you'd find them fooling around in an alcove somewhere, but wouldn't bet against it!" his laugh showed he was joking, but not by much. Their slender Englishman grinned at that, and Meghada gave a rueful chuckle of agreement, while Casino snorted at 'those two!'.

Major Richards just firmed his lips in disapproval and tried to restrain his frown, with not a lot of success; he thoroughly disapproved of whatever relationship the young woman had formed with the pickpocket.

"With the others, possibly, and she'd keep her mind on the job, make the exchange, but holding the characterization would take more effort certainly. With YOU, Actor? I doubt she'd be able to keep her temper in check long enough to make it to the front door, possibly THIS front door!; she surely can't with our oldest brother Michael, and you and he are just too damn much alike for comfort! Face it, when I annoy her, she tells me off right sharply, usually with a swift slap upside my head, just as she'd be likely to treat Casino here. Our brother Patrick, when he irritated her too much, HE got a pair of live river eels in his bed, mud, slime, teeth and all." He grinned broadly, "can't make a comparison to Chief, since Chief has too much sense to deliberately get on her bad side!" getting a nod and a hint of a grin from Chief in return.

"Michael, though? Last time he got on his high horse, all smug and snide, got that totally superior look on his face, like the one you're wearing? She put a purgative in his tea that kept him in the loo for two solid days; said it was to teach him that, contrary to his own opinion, his shit DID stink, just like everyone elses!" Actor choked on his drink, and required Casino slapping him on his back to recover his breath.

Once everyone stopped roaring with laughter, Kevin Richards, having known the family for many years, asked, "and how long ago, how old was she when she did that?" only to look as stunned as everyone else when Ciena grinned and told him, "Patrick? She was about thirteen. Michael? This past April, as I recall."

Goniff snickered, then broke into a full-bodied laugh, "that's my 'Gaida, alright! No, Actor, better pick one of the other choices, probably safer".

Actor tightened his lips, not particularly enjoying the laughter, and purred, "and I suppose you are quite eager to pose as Charisse? Fancy the feel of silk, do you?" He looked at the shorter man, appraisingly, deliberately offensive, and sneered, "well, you could certainly manage better than any of the rest of us, though it depends on just how unattractive a woman this Charisse is supposed to be." That almost caused a fistfight right there, with the look on the Englishman's face going from highly amused to almost vicious in less than a second. Garrison was immediately on his feet, hands outstretched to keep the two apart.

"Hey, enough! Actor, back down; Goniff, you too!"

Ian was quick to step in, at least verbally, "you're wrong, Actor, all around, and we can prove it. He's got the skills, can plant the evidence better than anyone else, you know that. As for the rest, him AND Meghada, just wait and see." Lieutenant Garrison and Major Richards fumed some more, but finally agreed to a sampling of their skills that evening. Everyone had a strong drink, some needing it more than others, and the two younger ones dashed off on some mysterious errands, to return later laden down with a garment bag and assorted parcels. Kevin Richards pleaded another meeting, and departed, knowing somehow, someway, this odd crew would make it work, if there was the least possibility of it working.

"Gaida, you don't really expect me to put that on! And what about . . . Well, can't exactly 'ide I'm a guy, not in that! One wrong move, ruddy 'ell! one wrong thought! and it's all over. Aint like those skirts we 'ad to use on that one mission; they was long and all bunchy and stiff and such. But that dress!"

He was looking in utter dismay at the flirty and flimsy coral confection Ciena had brought back from the Cottage. The sleeves were translucent and full, though tight at the wrists with delicate little buttoned bands, the neckline only slightly scooped away from the base of the throat, and the hem, though low mid-calf, had a four-pointed handkerchief hem, teasing with three layers of floaty silky material that would move with only a breath. Defiance was strong in his voice as he threw back his head and declared, "and I aint shaving my legs!"

She hid a grin as she soothed him, "well, and you don't need to; you being so fair makes it easier, and the tinted stockings are disguise enough; lots of women don't shave anyway, you know. As for hiding you being a man, there are ways," and his blue eyes grew big and round at the hastily altered undergarment Ciena was holding, as she illustrated with her fingers how it would work.

"No, absolutely not. Ruin me for life, that would! 'Gaida, you can't ask me to do that!" turning to the slightly older of the two young women.

Ian hastened to reasssure him. "It's not painful, just feels a little odd, Goniff; I swear it doesn't do any permanent harm, least never has with me, and I've done it a few times. Not in the field, not like this, but in practice in case I ever needed to. Doesn't really even interfere with your moving as usual; just, I'd advise against sneezing," he told the picket with a wide smirk, getting himself a glare in return. "Well, I did once and it was NOT comfortable! But nothing popped out of place even then. That's what I meant by I could do it if I had to."

In spite of Goniff's protests, the strapping was put in place, him driving Ciena from the room first to her amusement. Ian had tried to explain that wasn't necessary, that Ciena knew how it all worked and would be glad to help, but the incredulous dismay on the face of the resident pickpocket was enough to convince him that was a lost cause. {"Sometimes, these Outlanders!"}

In fact, even Meghada was banished, if not from the room, then from the fitting, since even her most determinedly neutral touch had the effect of making the binding difficult and even more uncomfortable, then downright impossible, as well as flushing his complexion to where she worried about getting the makeup on smoothly. While she was gratified by his response, as always, still, it wasn't the time, and it wasn't productive as far as the current project was concerned. Ian was just totally offhand about the whole matter, taking the opportunity to get the other parts of the disguise laid out properly til Goniff was back in condition to continue the process, and just as matter of fact in getting the Enlishman properly arranged once he'd subsided.

Ciena was allowed back in after he was firmly tucked away, only giving a quick questioning look at her brother as to what had taken so long, getting only a wink to let her know she'd get the details later. The under garments slid into place, including that chemise that gave the illusion of a small but adequate bosom. The shoes weren't high heels, but slippers just built up at the back to give the required definition to the calves of his legs, as Ciena explained, "Charisse is an original and has no need to follow fashion; and there's no time to teach you to walk easily in heels anyway. Meghada prefers to avoid them if possible, too, for a fast getaway if need be. Use that scurrying, sliding walk of yours, that will be distracting enough, and that quickness will offer plenty of reason for avoiding heels if anyone questions it."

"W'at about my voice?" he asked, starting to take a reluctant professional interest in this whole transformation.

"Avoid talking at all, if you can, just part of your quirky personality. And when you do, if you must, just keep it at a whisper; very sexy, like Dietrich, and accompany it with that shy little winsome half-smile you use when you're being your most innocent," he was told, and if the look on his face was highly skeptical, they ignored it for the moment.

They didn't bother with a wig, just dampening and styling his own flaxen blond mop a bit differently, a tweak or two with the scissors to emphasize his gamin face, and by the time they finished with the makeup, it was rather remarkable.

"Shoosh, stop frowning, love, and close your eyes and tilt your head back. I need to get this on straight," got a deep rumble of dissatisfaction, but he did comply), satisfied smiles were starting to show on at least three of the four faces. The fourth, well . . .

Meghada brought out the dress with a flourish, and they settled it over his head, being very careful of their completed makeup job. A quick tug at the zipper, a tying of the chiffon scarf at his throat to disguise his adam's apple, the ends trailing back over one shoulder, and they turned him toward the mirror. If they'd thought his eyes were attention-getting before, it was nothing to what they were now, huge hazy blue eyes, accentuated with just the right amount of eye liner and shadow, brows tidy and sleek, cheeks lightly flushed, wide mouth with lips slightly pouting and welcoming.

He groaned, "ruddy 'ell!"

Ciena looked at him in concern, "you look adorable! What, you don't think it'll work??"

He looked at her, sheer agony on his face, "it'll work alright! Get me ruddy well . . ." and he stopped, flushed heavily. He pleaded with them, "you don't understand, let any o them blokes see me like this . . ." Ian frowned heavily, wondering if he'd totally misjudged the dynamics of the group. He knew they teased, and sometimes fought, but he'd thought there was a genuine liking and respect between the men.

"You don't trust your team? Surely none of them would do anything to harm you, would they? If that's the case, then . . ."

Goniff groaned, "no, they wouldn't, though they'll likely never let me live it down; but it's not just them out there, you know!" He looked at the young man, wondering just how to explain, "well, maybe you wouldn't know. See, Ian, there's some out there, they see me like this, they won't understand, they'll get the wrong idea, and that . . ." only to see total understanding in the steady brown eyes facing him.

The Clan didn't send any of its people out without full knowledge of the dangers and pitfalls, to them and to others, from Outlander peculiarities; Ian had known he might be called on for such an impersonation at some time, himself, and was quite knowledgeable of the various risks involved in Goniff going forth dressed as he was.

"No one's going to see you like this, not with knowing it's you, except for your team and Kevin. They'll know it's a job, just like any other job you or they are called on to do, like those German uniforms or those priests' robes you've used." That got a very doubting look from the Englishman; to his mind there was NO comparison between those and what he was looking at in the mirror! Though as he recalled, they would have given Actor a bit of a rough time over those priests robes, except they'd all ended up wearing the same before the job was over.

"And for those you encounter there at the Embassy, you'll never see any of them again, most like, and even if they did, they're not likely to make any connection once you get back into your own gear, and the Lieutenant will be keeping a close eye on you. He might even give the impression that, in addition to guarding you, he's rather smitten, you know, to keep others at arms length." Ian wondered at the rather odd look and flush that comment received, and filed it away to think about later.

"And you don't look like 'Goniff dressed up as a woman'; you look like your own younger sister would look. We could even build that persona, documents, background and all, if need be, should any inquire."

Meghada watched all of that, then asked her brother and sister, "guys, go on back to the Common Room, will you? I want to talk with Goniff a bit alone. Keep the others away; we'll join you there when we're ready. I'll be getting myself together first too, so it'll be awhile; so don't let them get impatient and come barging in." She steadfastly ignored that knowing look in her siblings faces and shoo'd them out the door.

She waited til they left, and then sat on the bench beside the table, "there's something else, I think?"

And he looked at her, blinking rapidly then looked away. She waited, and finally he heaved a troubled sigh, the sound matching the worry in his eyes, "bad enough them seeing me like this, them and the guys and the Warden and all, but you seeing me like this, it's just, well," and he stopped.

She rose and stepped over to him, touching him ever so carefully at the side of his head, "you've seen me dressed as a man plenty of times, the wig, make-up, strapped down and all; do you have trouble seeing me as me, as a woman?"

His frown intensified, "aint the same thing," he started to say, but then stopped, "should be, maybe, but it aint." She ran the back of her fingers over his cheek, just barely touching to avoid smudging the makeup.

"Isn't it, love? Maybe not, I don't know, not from your side. From my side, you are you; that's all that's important." {"Telling him that I would love him, desire him equally as much if he WERE a woman would probably not be helpful, though it would be true. For the Clan, it's the individual we fall in love with, the gender is an interesting aspect of that individual but not the prime motivation. It's Goniff, the person, who and what he is, the spirit, the personality, the quirks and kinks, the strength and the vulnerability, and everything combined that draws me."}

And she reached around to undo the zipper of that dress, and the wrappings and all except the makeup, and proceeded to prove to their mutual satisfaction that she saw him as nothing less than desirable, and that was nothing all the lipstick and eyeshadow in the world could change.

Afterwards, she admitted to him with a smile, "wouldn't even have taken that dress off you, to really prove the point, if it wasn't we'd have mussed it terribly, and there's no time to have it laundered and pressed before we leave," and he shook his head at her, laughing, imagining that scene.

"Casino walk in on that, 'ave a bleedin 'eart attack, 'e would!"

"Well, maybe Casino needs to learn to knock, or his future health is probably at serious risk if he's so easily shocked; I imagine we'll do more than that to potentially startle him as time goes by," and she waggled her eyebrows at him while he laughed.

Then he stretched and got up, pulling her up after him, "wouldn't mind a shower, but that'd just mess the face, I suppose," he admitted, as she gently blotted the dampness from his forehead, touched up the makeup as necessary, and he contented himself with a good washing. Then, back into the wrappings and the dress and the rest, and he watched with deep attention as she got herself into the elegant gown and all the trimmings Coura had brought back for her. She did up her hair, did her makeup, added the long evening gloves and picked up the small evening clutch.

"'Ow do we work this? Go in together, or one at a time?" him now resigned to this charade if not happy about it. {"Still, not a bad gammon if I could pull it off. Dangerous, no doubt about it, but could 'ave its advantages at times."} One last glance in the mirror, and they headed out for their debut.

After a brief and edifying stop in Lynn's room, eliciting the first smiles the young woman had experienced since the sickness had arrived, the two proceeded down the hallway. The Common Room conversation stopped as the door opened and Actor's date made her way into the room, cool and collected, as elegant as he could have wanted. She greeted them, smiled at them, easily and with a graceful wave of her hand, "and may I present my very good friend, Charisse" and jaws dropped as a gamine-faced blonde delight in coral chiffon slid into the room, complete with fluttering lashes and a quick, impish smile and a cunning cocktail hat perched on the side of her head, complete with a mini-veil coming just to the edge of her forehead, accenting but not hiding her face. If Goniff had had a pert younger sister, this would have been her, and even Casino was struck dumb for a minute.

As the youngsters had instructed, all conversation was conducted as with the 'characters' the two were masquerading as, and his teammates were taken aback at that low, whispery voice, and the coy allure their teammate presented.

"You sure you aint done this before?" Casino muttered, tilting his head to look in disbelief at the coral confection once again.

"Not ruddy likely! Never came to mind in the first place, and wouldn't 'ave known 'ow to do it all up right, or taken the risk if I did! Coo, Casino, would YOU??!" came the growled reply, and Casino shook his head, understanding and agreeing with that sentiment entirely.

Ciena had made sure to issue a stern warning to each of them, particularly Casino, about doing anything to make Goniff even more uncomfortable. "Otherwise, we'll make YOU more than a little uncomfortable, I can assure you!" she threatened. "Believe me, he's none too happy about this, but is willing to do his best, so I expect the same from you!" 

"May I ask just where you learned to kiss like that?" Actor inquired carefully, "not quite what I expected from one called an Ice Queen," he admitted.

She grinned up at him, "where do you think I learned, Actor?" and looked back over at the chiffon clad 'Charisse', busy charming the guys. Actor was totally bewildered at what he was seeing, and Craig Garrison, his expression seemed to keep shifting from amused to concerned to worried, passing through bewildered and back to amused and around again. Obviously this was an eye-opening occasion for the young officer.

And her eyes grew deadly serious, "and he is quite aware of how dangerous this could be, in many ways, and seriously apprehensive. I'm depending on you and the others to keep him safe, in ALL ways."

The tall Italian frowned down at her, wondering if he should be offended, "surely you don't think he's in any danger from us, do you?"

"No, I don't; I don't think any of you would force him into anything he doesn't want, and neither does he, but he's uncomfortable with you seeing him rigged up like this, doesn't want this impersonation to affect this or any other mission, affect how you see his competence, see HIM. There are those, I think, who make the mistake of seeing him as less, somehow, because of his smaller stature, but he's proven his worth to you and the others, gained your trust, your acceptance. He doesn't want this job to affect any of that; he values it far too highly, you know. And this is just another disguise, a mask, a particularly helpful one for this job where his slender build, his bone structure makes him the logical choice. He isn't 'Charisse', Actor. Actually, if it makes any sense, if this WERE him, we would never have even considered this approach; it would be TOO fraught with hazard, worry that someone would see him later and make the connection, endanger him even then. But, he's appealing, you can see that; there are others out there who would find him so as well, whether they saw him as 'Charisse' or saw through the disguise to the man below; of those, there would be some who would use the disguise as a justification for anything from seduction to violence. Actor, we can't let him get hurt because of this impersonation! If you can't buy into that, you and the others, if you can't commit to backing him up totally just as you would if he were in any other role, we'll have to figure out some other con entirely."

And he looked down at the fierce expression on her face, realizing once again just how much she cared about their resident pickpocket, then over at his teammate who was getting ready to attempt something Actor wasn't at all sure he himself would have been willing to do, even if it had been possible, and smiled down at the redhead in front of him.

"We'll look out for him, and we'll try not to tease him too much. And I'll caution the others, particularly Casino, about not mentioning this to anyone else," and she nodded. She had to grin, though, when he told her, "after all, I have no desire to spend that much time in the bathroom! Or deal with anything else you might think of. It would appear you can be quite inventive. And quite merciless."

The mission was a success, both parts of it, information received safely, evidence safely planted. 'Charisse' was a smash hit, the slightly unusual hairstyles 'she' had created destined to become a brief fad among the society mavens, 'asymetrical melange, darling! Just the newest thing!', much to Meghada's amusement; that slightly toussled, gamine look itself was widely copied as well, though perhaps not to the same effect, and coral appeared on far too many women, many of whom should have truly avoided the difficult color. In fact, Bruno Manheim was more than a little disappointed when his offer of a permanent position was turned down. Goniff never did know whether Bruno had been so taken in or not, or whether the photographer just didn't care, but he did snicker about it ever so often. Garrison and the men had been just as careful and protective as Meghada had requested, and if the teasing had been perhaps more than she'd have liked, still it was goodhumored and certainly less than the pickpocket had expected. As long as he was alright with it, she was as well; after all, their humor often puzzled her at the best of times, Goniff's included.

"Don't know that I'd want to do that again, you know, but it's good to know that I could, if I 'ad to," he admitted from where he lay, watching her undo her hair for the night. "Think you could teach me 'ow to do the fixin, just in case? I wouldn't mind the knowing."

Her smiling nod in his direction was the same one she always had for him, he was relieved to see, as was her "of course, love. It can be a bit tricky, so you're right to not want to try it on the fly. Go too far and it becomes a caricature, drawing attention to the fact that it's a disguise, rather than being a disguise itself. And it could be useful on a mission, certainly; could open a way if things go all pear-shaped."

He wasn't sure how to approach the rest, but he'd promised himself he would. He trusted her, didn't want her getting any idea that he didn't, but still . . .

"Looked a right treat, you did, as much as Lynn would 'ave, easily. Those fancy dresses and all the rest; I like that green one and the bronzie one in particular." He stopped for a moment, watching her brush out that long red hair, pushing it back over her shoulders.

"Wouldn't get much of a chance to go about like that with me, not ta any kinda place I'd fit in, not like with Actor or maybe the Warden. Didn't much like you off and about with Actor though," he frowned slightly. He hesitated, looking down at the covers under his hand, moving his forefinger in lazy patterns across it. "Didn't much like 'im kissin you," he admitted. Another long pause, him looking up at her from under lowered eyelids, "that kiss, it looked ruddy convincing; seems 'e did it pretty good; seemed 'e was impressed with you too."

She smiled at him slowly, appreciating the way he was going about this, not accusingly, but carefully, letting her know how he felt (which she knew was never an easy thing for him), and obviously wanting to keep things right between them; trusting her to take what he said in the way he meant it. Sometimes that wasn't easy, since he did have a knack for speaking before thinking often enough, saying things that could too easily be taken the wrong way. She tried to be equally as careful now in her response.

"The dresses are pretty, yes, and I like some of the fabrics, but they're just part of the disguise for the jobs, love. I can easily wear such fabrics in house coats and such, if I'm of a mind to, if you think you'd like that as well," and made up her mind to do exactly that, to see if it pleased him, perhaps reassured him she wasn't missing out on some essential pleasure by choosing to be with him rather than someone else. She had a feeling she wouldn't be wearing such things for very long at a time, but that might be a bit nice too; in her mind she could almost feel his fingers undoing the fastenings, hear that 'shsssh' as the fine material hit the floor; she gave a tiny shudder of anticipation.

"That way we could enjoy them without having other people to bother with. And as for Actor, he has some talent, yes, but not so much as he thinks he does. And such talents are only as appealing as the person wielding them, you know. That too was just part of the job, like auditioning for a part in a play, like playing Juliette to my own brother's Romeo; he really is a lot like Michael," giving him an amused moue to know just how appealing she found THAT thought!

"As for me, I just gave him a little sample of what you've taught me, to make him stop acting so superior. He should've been impressed; I certainly am," and she joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching out her hand to caress his cheek. "I certainly don't intend to give him any samples of anything else you've taught me, anything we've learned, experienced together, though, not for real; just call me selfish that way," leaning in to kiss him at the corner of his mouth, resting one hand on his chest then letting it drift southwards; she gave a breathless laugh as he growled at her and pulled her down close to him.

"Ruddy well 'ope not!" 

 

***

Coura was pleased at the request for one or two new items, "something in similar materials to the dresses, but things I can comfortably wear here at the Cottage," and quickly guessed at the reason behind it. She chuckled at the thought of this request; Meghada had never asked for any special creations except for the fancy dresses she needed to take her reluctant place in society. Her sisters had been telling her what a change the talented and surprising Goniff was making in the Dragon, and here was definite proof. Well, it was about time Meghada had something special for herself!

She stood in front of the wide shelves holding her stash of fabric, "a housecoat, certainly - that Chinese floral silk in deep turquoise and peach and gold, I think. Perhaps a couple of those one-piece 'unders', burgundy, perhaps, or, ooh, that russet! and that heavy creamy color matched with that Cluny lace! Nightgowns, of course - at least two, and one of them HAS to be in that royal blue silky textured material and the other in that deep bronze! And I think her regular clothes need a bit of updating too - that slubbed wool in the chocolate would make a nice long skirt and jacket, and the ecru silk for a blouse, or maybe the russet blend, with that russet silk for a blouse. Maybe she could bypass the blouses entirely and just button that jacket one button higher and wear just those 'under's beneath!! Oh, this is going to be fun!" and she clapped her hands in total glee at outfitting the Dragon in a way to please both her sister AND her sister's love.

She moved closer to look at the end shelf with denim and chambray. "And while I'm at it . . ." She closed the door and went to get her drawing pad and pencils and a fresh pot of coffee. 

 

The package arrived; well, a trunk really, rather than the package she'd been expecting. Old Howie brought it to the kitchen door, "shall I leave it here, Miss?" knowing she didn't let many inside, though he'd been there when he'd worked on the initial repairs and improvements to the cottage.

"Yes, please, Howie. My thanks for bringing it from the station! I had no idea it was such a large shipment!" handing him a folded bill, along with a quickly put together package of her fresh scones and a double pat of fresh butter, getting a delighted grin in reply. She dragged the trunk into the kitchen and knelt on the rug to open it. She read the note at the top, and shook her head in amusement over her young sister's words. And one by one she pulled out the items wrapped in tissue, eyes widening with each, in appreciation, in wonder at the materials and the workmanship. In a couple of cases, her eyes widened at the sheer daring of the cut of the garments.

"I could be wearing the most demure of clothing on top, and yet underneath . . .!" And she grinned at the thought, and the reaction she would get. She particularly liked the thought of him KNOWING what she was wearing underneath, while she went about her usual conversations at the pub or in the Common Room. Watching his eyes, seeing the knowing there. Oh, yes, she liked that a lot!

{"Of course, I see that look now, more often than not, him knowing what's under whatever I'm wearing; can see him 'removing' things in his mind, piece by piece, til there's nothing left. Course, by then, he's usually urging me out of the room and back to the Cottage!"} She laughed as she remembered some of those very quick trips from the Pub and in through the kitchen door. Once they hadn't made it inside that door; she could still feel the texture of the cottage wall at her back, as well remembering the puzzled questions from Mrs. Wilson as to how she'd managed to snag the material on the back of her blouse and skirt so badly. She shook herself briskly, and continued delving in the trunk.

The new skirts with matching jackets, with accompanying blouses, that was most pleasing, even if the cut did cause her to raise her brows a bit, it showing much more of her figure than she was wont to do. The note folded there, suggesting occasionally using the 'unders' instead of the blouses, that opened her eyes wide, and caused a wicked grin to float across her face. And that package at the bottom, the one addressed to Goniff, well, she couldn't wait to see him in what Coura had sent. She left it for him to open, of course, but her own note had described those items, "medium blue denim, big sister, jeans and jacket that actually should fit him and show off that slim waist and tight arse of his! Ciena sent me his measurements and described him, with Ian adding in a bit of info too, information Ciena wasn't privy to. Nice, big sister, very nice indeed!! The light blue chambrey shirt should do nicely with the darker denim and bring out his eyes almost as well as Ciena told me that other blue did! I think you'll enjoy THIS package as much as the one I sent you!" And she threw back her head and laughed, "aye, little sister, I think I will!" He tended to wear lighter browns when he wasn't in military dress or disguise, and they did nothing for him, though darker ones probably would have suited him nicely; in fact, she wondered it that wasn't why he chose them, just another layer of disguise. But this, yes, this she was looking forward to seeing him in. 

And those were the clothes he was wearing when the others dropped in to see if the two wanted to accompany them on a trip to the pub. Sergeant Major had suggested that, said Meghada had called and asked them to stop by on the way. Garrison stopped dead in his tracks, the others piling up at his back in the doorway.

"Hey, Warden, what's the matter? We walking in on somethin we shouldn't?" came laughingly from Casino, and after a rough clearing of his throat, Craig Garrison gave a little attempt at a laugh, and stepped into the warm kitchen.

"No, of course not, Casino. Just lost my footing for a moment," his eyes never leaving the slender Englishman in the snug jeans and jacket, that pale blue chambrey shirt tucked in sharply, reaching up over the kitchen counter to get the glasses from the cabinet. Meghada, coming in from the bedroom in her new russet wool skirt, and the new silky russet blouse, a touch of creamy lace showing at the bodice, for once showing her figure quite nicely, got her own share of accolades from the guys, but it was Goniff who really got the stares.

"You two want to come with us to the pub?" Garrison got just a hint of a frown, "maybe after you change clothes?" though Meghada was amused that the comment was obviously directed more at the pickpocket than to her.

"Figured you might like to spend the time 'ere instead. 'Gaida's got in a new shipment, the good stuff too! Spent part a the afternoon cooking, she did, somethin special. Could eat, then cards, darts, chess, music, whatever you've a mind for," came with a wide-eyed hopeful look, an eager smile not like his usual mischievious grin, but one somehow younger, more truly vulnerable.

Meghada watched Craig Garrison's face, his eyes, and suppressed a grin of her own, {"I don't think those first few are what he 'has a mind for', though I'm not sure even HE realizes that yet!"}

They all decided staying was a grand idea, and lit into the big pan of vegetable and cheese casserole their hostess laid out for them, hot bread just out of the oven, along with that pile of fresh cookies and muffins; then they tucked into the bourbon and whiskey as they settled around in the sitting room.

Actor stood beside Garrison, "amazing the difference clothes can make, isn't it, Craig?" shaking his head in amusement. He didn't notice the flush that came over the blond officer's face, or the quick sideways glance Garrison gave him. Garrison heaved a quick sigh of relief, {"at least he's looking at HER! And he's right; this is hardly the Ice Queen; this is Meghada at her relaxed best, warm and almost voluptuous. Still, that's not nearly as amazing as . . ."} and his eyes drifted back over to the slender flaxen-haired blond clowning around with Casino and Chief at the card table.

"Absolutely amazing, Actor." Actor blinked at something in the way those words were said, took a fast glance at the direction Garrison was looking, and his eyebrows lifted in even greater amusement. {"Yes, I think our young leader is growing up, or perhaps only waking up! 'Charisse' just made him protective; THIS, this is something quite different!"}

He did have a moment of apprehension, thinking of their hostess, her obvious passion for their pickpocket and her temper; he shot her a fast glance, and was both bewildered and relieved at the look of benevolent and accepting amusement in her eyes. He was even more bewildered when she shot him a fast complicit wink and a tiny grin.

{"Oh, well, I suppose it will all make sense at some point."} And he shrugged and went to settle in at the card game, "alright, who's up first?" And the tiny snort of laughter from the doorway, well, he decided he'd just ignore that.


End file.
